


Radio Waves

by BugsyPotter



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Horror, One Shot, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22491580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BugsyPotter/pseuds/BugsyPotter
Summary: As a fresh college student, this wasn't even really a chore. Your dorm was actually just a couple blocks away. Your mom thought it would be a great opportunity. After all, she wouldn't be around forever.After a couple months, you had actually begun looking forward to the visits. You always came back to the dorm with some kind of baked goods. You had become very popular among your peers.The story time had also become a good inspiration for your creative writing class as well.The old woman may have been labeled as a 'nut,' but you couldn't wait to hear how her stories would end. Maybe you were screwy in the head as well.The thing was; when grandma would tell stories, she would tell them so well and so vividly, that you could almost believe they were fact.And the best part was, that she never even made these stories up.She got them from "the man in the radio."
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Radio Waves

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt

Your grandmother had always been a strange nut. "Nut," was actually the precise term that the neighbors used in hushed tones along the street when you passed by.

You were no stranger to the rumors.

After all, you visited your grandma about twice a week. She needed the care. You brought her fresh groceries, caught her up on family events, and even listened to the same old stories she told as if it were your first time hearing them. This was ritual. Sundays and Wednesdays.

Grandpa had been out of the picture for a long while.

Grandma was a bit off. She was still sweet and kind, just like when you were a child. Mom told you the doctors diagnosed her with a mild case of schizophrenia.

Honestly, you couldn't tell. She seemed pretty normal besides the strange stories she came up with. A bit of a shut in. Not a lot of friends besides the cats. Nothing too drastic.

As a fresh college student, this wasn't even really a chore. Your dorm was actually just a couple blocks away. Your mom thought it would be a great opportunity. After all, she wouldn't be around forever.

After a couple months, you had actually begun looking forward to the visits. You always came back to the dorm with some kind of baked goods. You had become very popular among your peers.

The story time had also become a good inspiration for your creative writing class as well.

The old woman may have been labeled as a 'nut,' but you couldn't wait to hear how her stories would end. Maybe you were screwy in the head as well.

The thing was; when grandma would tell stories, she would tell them so well and so vividly, that you could almost believe they were fact.

And the best part was, that she never even made these stories up.

She got them from "the man in the radio."

So today was Sunday.

Classes ended early, and you had the next two days off. All your friends were going back home to visit family. Your mom and dad were going to be busy with work.

You figured that you'd just crash at grandma's for a couple days. Free food, television, and great stories. It would be convenient, and you wouldn't miss your visit on Wednesday.

The suburbs alongside the city felt natural. The sun was high, birds squawked at each other, children pushed and pulled at their expensive toys, and parents sat on their porches to watch and chat.

It was nice. The breeze felt good.

Three houses down and you saw that familiar old blue door with the little bell on the handle. You knocked twice, opening the door without much hesitation. The bell made a fairy-like tinging noise. It was comforting.

She always seemed to know when you were about to show up too. The dining room table was set up neatly, and she had the kettle on.

"Hey, hon! Chamomile is in the cabinet. I'm just cleaning up in here," she hollered from the living room.

"Thanks gramma," you shouted back, throwing your bag down in the entryway. It took you a moment to take off your shoes.

You could hear that same familiar static noise coming from the living room.

She must have had the radio on, listening for that mysterious man who gave her those great stories.

Out the corner of your eye, you saw her slowly picking up a couple books from the coffee table and putting them on another table nearby.

She liked to keep busy.

She couldn't move like she used to. Arthritis and all, but she made a good effort.

You walked passed the living room and directly into the kitchen.

You made yourself some coffee instead of the tea. She hated that you drank so much of it, but she always bought some for when you came over. You loved that about her.

"(Y/N), I had the most lovely conversation with the man in the radio today," she sang. "He told me that you would be home early from school and that you would be staying the night!"

You smiled a little.

"Grandma, mom told you that this morning," you corrected.

She met you in the kitchen, watching you stir your coffee. "Yes, well, I know that."

Her expression turned into a grimace.

"What else did the two of you talk about while I was out?" you tried to change the subject. You didn't like that expression on such a kind woman.

"Your mom and I talked about your father a little," she shrugged, taking a seat at the breakfast nook.

"Not mom, silly. The man in the radio," you laughed, taking a seat next to her.

It took a moment for the woman to register the sentence. "Oh," she seemed to look out the window. "Not much. He told me that he would pay me a visit soon."

"Wow, that's pretty huge," you watched her expression carefully. She seemed to be lost in thought. It made you a bit worried.

After a moment, she snapped back to you. "Well, (Y/N). Are you hungry? I'm making pasta and a big salad."

Her smile was infectious.

"Absolutely."

The night went by just like any other. The two of you ate, caught up, she watched her favorite show, and you did some homework. Around seven or so, your grandmother became a bit sleepy.

Grabbing some spare linens for you, and handing you the remote, she bid you goodnight. The house only had a single room, so it was the sofa for you.

You had never stayed over at your grandmother's house before, but you felt like this was a very normal thing for her. Early to bed, early to rise, and such.

She was old. It made sense.

You weren't quite sure what to do with yourself though.

Your grandmother didn't have wifi, so you ended up just using the data on your phone to message some friends for a bit. Nothing really helped pass the time.

You ended up falling asleep pretty early as well.

You weren't expecting to rise as early as 3:00 am though.

There it was, flashing in and out of an outdated VCR. The time taunted you.

Why the hell were you awake in the first place?

What was that awful, dull noise?

You looked around the room in annoyance.

Then you became fully conscious.

Static.

It was the radio.

Your grandmother was sitting at the dining table in the dark, staring at the radio.

You felt frozen. This had to be a dream.

Nothing this creepy could be happening in real life.

A cold sweat crawled down your neck as you looked at the strange, and dimly lit scene in front of you.

Was your grandmother crazy after all?

Did she do this every night?

What were you supposed to do? Go to her? Pretend to be asleep again?

You couldn't decide.

You just stared at her while she stared at that radio.

"You've done well, Josephine," a strange voice seemed to crackle in and out of the room.

You felt your heart rate increase.

It was a man's voice. It was coming from the radio. She wasn't crazy.

"Are you prepared to depart?"

You could hear your grandmother's voice begin to choke up. It sounded as if she had been crying. "If you promise," she sobbed. "Not to hurt her."

The static began to grow.

A flash of light filled the room for a split second.

You were blinded temporarily.

Your head began to pound.

"I never intended to," the voice was closer now.

Your eyes tried to adjust to the darkness again.

You couldn't be sure, but you could have swore that you saw an extremely tall man in a suit standing near your grandmother.

And just as you brought your hands to your eyes to rub them, the sound was gone.

So were they.

Silence filled the room.

You weren't sure what just happened. You felt paralyzed.

"(Y/N), you will see me again very soon. After all, I own you now."

The words were as clear as day, coming from the radio.

The last thing you heard before blacking out, was the soft humming of your grandmother, surrounded by thick static.


End file.
